THE BADLANDS [ON HOLD]
Bullshit
“Can't live with us
You can't live without us
I take it then I break it
Then you write my paycheck...” -Bullshit, Mindless Self Indulgence
I jump off of Gerard, crying out at the fright. "I said 'who the fuck are you'?" The man growls, pressing the cold plastic of his zap up against my temple. Oh. Shit.
"There's more over here!" A smaller, decidedly more female voice across the room yelps, accompanied by a cry from Frank.
I try to keep my voice steady as I speak. "We're rebels and we were on our way to Five, but our car broke down, so we started walking and found this place," I tell the man. I can't see him and I don't want to turn my head, in case he's trigger-happy. "We checked the place and nobody was in, so we thought it was abandoned."
"Okay," the man says, not removing his zap from my head. "So, why were you two about to shag?"
"About to do what?" Mikey asks sleepily. I can see him out of the corner of my eye and his blond hair is matted to the side of his face from sleep.
"It means to screw," the smaller voice says. "Jump each other's bones. Bang."
"Missile!" The man cries, sounding horrified.
"Don't tell me things!" The girl names Missile defends herself. "You know that children repeat what they hear from their elders."
"You'll have to excuse my daughter," the man says.
"Okay, great, now can you take the damn gun off of my head?" I growl, jerking my head away. He quickly reconnects it and I huff in frustration.
"Dude, I know you're pissed, but hear me out," Gerard says, standing up. "You can't shoot her."
"Why, she's important?" The man snarls.
"Do you read the Hesitant Alien zine?" Gerard asks. The man seems to nod, because Gerard adds "She's Halsey. And I'm Party Poison. And the blond dude across the room is my little brother, the Kobra Kid."
"You're Halsey?" Missile asks, happiness in her small voice. "Star, don't you dare hurt Halsey!"
Suddenly, the gun is ripped from my head and I stand up, grabbing my vest and pulling it on. Now I can fully examine the man named Star and the girl named Missile.
First is the man, Star. He has medium-length, dark and curly hair, with eyes the same hue of brown as his hair. His whole ensemble is black, except for a few patches on his jacket and the blood-red interior. His gun is painted blue with a white stripe down the barrel and he quickly shoves it into a pocket in the inside of his jacket. He looks to be a few years older than us, maybe 23 at the most.
The girl next to him looks a bit like him, hair-wise: curly and unruly. Her hair, though, is a light brown and her eyes are a pale green. Her outfit is a mix of almost every color under the sun, and she's clutching a plastic robot toy between her arm and her body. She's so short and skinny, she has to be very young.
Missile moves closer to me and looks up at me with her big eyes. "You're even prettier in real life," she breathes and I laugh, crouching to get to her height.
"Thank you, Missile," I say and straighten the collar of her olive green army vest. "You're very pretty, too. You look a lot like your dad."
"Jet Star isn't my real daddy," the girl says, glancing behind her at the man. "Star found me a few years ago and helped me and now he just calls me his daughter."
"Oh, well, that doesn't change the fact that you're very pretty," I tell her and she giggles.
"Don't pull that shit, Missile. You're not innocent," Jet Star says, giving her the universal parent face that clearly says 'you're skating on thin ice right now; choose your words carefully'. This makes Missile laugh again and I stand up, brushing my hands on the thighs of my jeans.
"So, can we stay here for the rest of the night?" Gerard asks, crossing his arms and popping his hip out.
"Depends," Star says, glancing around the room at everyone, who're now awake and intently watching the scene. "Who're they?"
"The blond, red-coated one is the Kobra Kid," Gerard starts. "The short dude is Fun Ghoul, and the last one is Dr. Death Defying."
"So, you've got a magazine writer, a hot girl, the writer's baby brother, an ex-con—" his eyes skim over Frank's orange jumpsuit, "—and a radio DJ?" Star asks, summing up our little group nicely. "Sounds like you could use a little help getting to Five."
"Excuse me?" I scoff, laughing. "You just tried to blast my fucking head off. If it wasn't for Missile, you'd have to scrape my brains off the wall with a putty knife."
"And that's why Halsey is my girl," Gerard says, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind me. "Graphic as fuck."
"Oh my God," Dr. Death mumbles across the room and I watch his eyes roll hard, his pupils disappear into his skull for a second. "Hey, Jet or whatever the hell your name is, can you please shoot them before they start back up with that P.D.A shit?"
"Yes, my name is Jet, and I would gladly do that— if I wanted Missile Kid to blow my fucking brains against the ceiling," Jet says.
"Hurt them and I'll hurt you," Missile says. I'm sure the statement was supposed to be threatening, but with the girl's stature, it makes it downright adorable.
"What makes us think that we should trust you?" Gerard asks suddenly, pulling himself off of me. "Hell, you could be working for B.L.I."
Jet mulls over the question for a second before clearing his throat and approaching Gerard, towering a few inches over Gerard's scarlet hair. "I could've shot all of you at any second, yet I haven't. Why is that?"
Gerard blinks silently as a response, unable to find any words.
"Because your little pansy asses won't last a day out here," Jet says. "Even if you do got Dr. Death Defying. You need me. Trust me on this."
All of us are silent as we think over the offer. Eventually, Frank says "Can we agree to be friends already so I can get some goddamn sleep?"
"Rise and shine!" Jet yells, hitting the wall with so much force that it feels like all four of them are shaking. "Get up! We gotta get to Five!"
I slowly sit up, frightened momentarily by my surroundings before remembering where we are. Everyone else sits up as well, our eyelids wanting to stay closed. It's significantly brighter now that the sun's out, the light seeping in through the butcher-paper-covered windows.
"The sooner we leave, the sooner Missile and I can get out of your hair," Jet says. "And the sooner we can get back to a normal life."
"Or whatever's normal out here," Missile adds, digging around in the bag slung across her body.
"How're we getting to Five?" Frank asks, leaning up against one of the walls. "We can't walk."
"I know a few people who should be here—" Jet starts but his sentence is cut off my the sound of car doors slamming outside. "Right now," Jet finishes. He quickly crosses the room over to the door and throws it open. "Hey, guys! How's it going?"
"It's, ah... It's going," a new man says and I can imagine him smiling. "Can we come in?"
"Yeah, come on," Jet says and moves out of the doorway.
Two people enter, one a man and the other a woman. The two seem to be polar opposites: the man is tall, skinny, and has short, dark hair while the woman is shorter, more shapely, and has shoulder-length blond-and-brown hair.
"Guys, these are my minions, Tour Love and Little Jimmy," Jet says, smiling. "And they're getting us out to Five."
"Hi," the man says, giving me a tight hug. "Jet told us that some of his friends need help and, boy, do we have help. This is my wife. I call her Love." He starts to bounce on the ball of his feet excitedly, smiling.
"Jimmy, settle down," Love says, placing her hand on her husband's shoulder and smiling broadly. "You're getting eccentric."
"Right, sorry," Jimmy says, not seeming to settle down at all. "Jet told us your names, so let me guess," he points to me and says "You're Halsey." I nod and he points to Gerard. "I know you and your brother from your zine, Poison," he looks over at Mikey, who manages a small smile. "The jumpsuit dude is Fun Ghoul— we gotta get you some 'Joy clothes— and the last one... You're Steve, Righ'?"
"I was," Dr. Death says bitterly. "About 10 years ago. I'm Dr. Death Defying now."
"Okay," Jimmy says. "I'll remember that. So, let's get you guys out of here and out to Five."
You can't live without us
I take it then I break it
Then you write my paycheck...” -Bullshit, Mindless Self Indulgence
I jump off of Gerard, crying out at the fright. "I said 'who the fuck are you'?" The man growls, pressing the cold plastic of his zap up against my temple. Oh. Shit.
"There's more over here!" A smaller, decidedly more female voice across the room yelps, accompanied by a cry from Frank.
I try to keep my voice steady as I speak. "We're rebels and we were on our way to Five, but our car broke down, so we started walking and found this place," I tell the man. I can't see him and I don't want to turn my head, in case he's trigger-happy. "We checked the place and nobody was in, so we thought it was abandoned."
"Okay," the man says, not removing his zap from my head. "So, why were you two about to shag?"
"About to do what?" Mikey asks sleepily. I can see him out of the corner of my eye and his blond hair is matted to the side of his face from sleep.
"It means to screw," the smaller voice says. "Jump each other's bones. Bang."
"Missile!" The man cries, sounding horrified.
"Don't tell me things!" The girl names Missile defends herself. "You know that children repeat what they hear from their elders."
"You'll have to excuse my daughter," the man says.
"Okay, great, now can you take the damn gun off of my head?" I growl, jerking my head away. He quickly reconnects it and I huff in frustration.
"Dude, I know you're pissed, but hear me out," Gerard says, standing up. "You can't shoot her."
"Why, she's important?" The man snarls.
"Do you read the Hesitant Alien zine?" Gerard asks. The man seems to nod, because Gerard adds "She's Halsey. And I'm Party Poison. And the blond dude across the room is my little brother, the Kobra Kid."
"You're Halsey?" Missile asks, happiness in her small voice. "Star, don't you dare hurt Halsey!"
Suddenly, the gun is ripped from my head and I stand up, grabbing my vest and pulling it on. Now I can fully examine the man named Star and the girl named Missile.
First is the man, Star. He has medium-length, dark and curly hair, with eyes the same hue of brown as his hair. His whole ensemble is black, except for a few patches on his jacket and the blood-red interior. His gun is painted blue with a white stripe down the barrel and he quickly shoves it into a pocket in the inside of his jacket. He looks to be a few years older than us, maybe 23 at the most.
The girl next to him looks a bit like him, hair-wise: curly and unruly. Her hair, though, is a light brown and her eyes are a pale green. Her outfit is a mix of almost every color under the sun, and she's clutching a plastic robot toy between her arm and her body. She's so short and skinny, she has to be very young.
Missile moves closer to me and looks up at me with her big eyes. "You're even prettier in real life," she breathes and I laugh, crouching to get to her height.
"Thank you, Missile," I say and straighten the collar of her olive green army vest. "You're very pretty, too. You look a lot like your dad."
"Jet Star isn't my real daddy," the girl says, glancing behind her at the man. "Star found me a few years ago and helped me and now he just calls me his daughter."
"Oh, well, that doesn't change the fact that you're very pretty," I tell her and she giggles.
"Don't pull that shit, Missile. You're not innocent," Jet Star says, giving her the universal parent face that clearly says 'you're skating on thin ice right now; choose your words carefully'. This makes Missile laugh again and I stand up, brushing my hands on the thighs of my jeans.
"So, can we stay here for the rest of the night?" Gerard asks, crossing his arms and popping his hip out.
"Depends," Star says, glancing around the room at everyone, who're now awake and intently watching the scene. "Who're they?"
"The blond, red-coated one is the Kobra Kid," Gerard starts. "The short dude is Fun Ghoul, and the last one is Dr. Death Defying."
"So, you've got a magazine writer, a hot girl, the writer's baby brother, an ex-con—" his eyes skim over Frank's orange jumpsuit, "—and a radio DJ?" Star asks, summing up our little group nicely. "Sounds like you could use a little help getting to Five."
"Excuse me?" I scoff, laughing. "You just tried to blast my fucking head off. If it wasn't for Missile, you'd have to scrape my brains off the wall with a putty knife."
"And that's why Halsey is my girl," Gerard says, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind me. "Graphic as fuck."
"Oh my God," Dr. Death mumbles across the room and I watch his eyes roll hard, his pupils disappear into his skull for a second. "Hey, Jet or whatever the hell your name is, can you please shoot them before they start back up with that P.D.A shit?"
"Yes, my name is Jet, and I would gladly do that— if I wanted Missile Kid to blow my fucking brains against the ceiling," Jet says.
"Hurt them and I'll hurt you," Missile says. I'm sure the statement was supposed to be threatening, but with the girl's stature, it makes it downright adorable.
"What makes us think that we should trust you?" Gerard asks suddenly, pulling himself off of me. "Hell, you could be working for B.L.I."
Jet mulls over the question for a second before clearing his throat and approaching Gerard, towering a few inches over Gerard's scarlet hair. "I could've shot all of you at any second, yet I haven't. Why is that?"
Gerard blinks silently as a response, unable to find any words.
"Because your little pansy asses won't last a day out here," Jet says. "Even if you do got Dr. Death Defying. You need me. Trust me on this."
All of us are silent as we think over the offer. Eventually, Frank says "Can we agree to be friends already so I can get some goddamn sleep?"
"Rise and shine!" Jet yells, hitting the wall with so much force that it feels like all four of them are shaking. "Get up! We gotta get to Five!"
I slowly sit up, frightened momentarily by my surroundings before remembering where we are. Everyone else sits up as well, our eyelids wanting to stay closed. It's significantly brighter now that the sun's out, the light seeping in through the butcher-paper-covered windows.
"The sooner we leave, the sooner Missile and I can get out of your hair," Jet says. "And the sooner we can get back to a normal life."
"Or whatever's normal out here," Missile adds, digging around in the bag slung across her body.
"How're we getting to Five?" Frank asks, leaning up against one of the walls. "We can't walk."
"I know a few people who should be here—" Jet starts but his sentence is cut off my the sound of car doors slamming outside. "Right now," Jet finishes. He quickly crosses the room over to the door and throws it open. "Hey, guys! How's it going?"
"It's, ah... It's going," a new man says and I can imagine him smiling. "Can we come in?"
"Yeah, come on," Jet says and moves out of the doorway.
Two people enter, one a man and the other a woman. The two seem to be polar opposites: the man is tall, skinny, and has short, dark hair while the woman is shorter, more shapely, and has shoulder-length blond-and-brown hair.
"Guys, these are my minions, Tour Love and Little Jimmy," Jet says, smiling. "And they're getting us out to Five."
"Hi," the man says, giving me a tight hug. "Jet told us that some of his friends need help and, boy, do we have help. This is my wife. I call her Love." He starts to bounce on the ball of his feet excitedly, smiling.
"Jimmy, settle down," Love says, placing her hand on her husband's shoulder and smiling broadly. "You're getting eccentric."
"Right, sorry," Jimmy says, not seeming to settle down at all. "Jet told us your names, so let me guess," he points to me and says "You're Halsey." I nod and he points to Gerard. "I know you and your brother from your zine, Poison," he looks over at Mikey, who manages a small smile. "The jumpsuit dude is Fun Ghoul— we gotta get you some 'Joy clothes— and the last one... You're Steve, Righ'?"
"I was," Dr. Death says bitterly. "About 10 years ago. I'm Dr. Death Defying now."
"Okay," Jimmy says. "I'll remember that. So, let's get you guys out of here and out to Five."
Notes
Okay, yeah, Tour Love is Chantal Claret and Little Jimmy is Jimmy Urine. I couldn't resist putting them in; I'm such a fangirl for Chantal.
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stay lovely xo
The last line of every chapter is always great.
And happy birthday Hesitant Alien!
10/1/15